On November 28th, 2018, I sat on the top step of the concrete stairs to the base legal office in 29 Palms, CA, and I smoked a cigarette to quell my nerves. I’d just sat through a ninety-minute “Divorce Brief,” along with maybe fifteen others – both servicemembers in uniform and soon-to-be in-dependents – and my head was swimming. My now-ex-husband and I had broken up shortly before he deployed, two months prior. I was alone, I had no idea what the future held, and I had a stack of paperwork that could have doubled as a step-stool to work through. It was, without doubt, one of the hardest phases of my life – of our lives.
My recollection of the months that followed is hazy, at best, but I will always remember that day as if I was right there again. I stubbed out the cigarette, hoisted myself up, and walked two miles home with shaking legs. I texted my ex, wrote in my journal, and drank whiskey to blot out the noise. And, just like that, the day was over.
Since that day, life has taken more twists and turns than I ever could have expected, but ultimately both my ex and I have ended up in much, much happier places than we were when we coexisted. I only wish I’d known then what I know now – that divorce is not a death knell. To quote the words of (former) 20-year Army spouse Erin Ward, “You can move forward and you can do [divorce] with integrity and your head held high. And sometimes the other side is pretty darn great when all is said and done.”
And it can be. It truly can.
If I could go back to the woman sitting on that concrete step – staring glibly into an uncertain future – and offer her any advice, the following list is what I would tell her. If you, or anyone that you know, may be in similar shoes as the woman on the step – then this is for you, instead.
Bear in mind, though – I’m saying this with the gift of retrospect. I know all too well that divorce is a messy, arduous, painful process, and anyone who’s been there will undoubtedly tell you exactly the same thing. With that said, now that the passage of time has fortified my vision a little, here are a few tidbits of insight if you’re at the starting point, standing on the threshold of life outside the military sphere.
1: Heartbreak is hard work, so slow the heck down.
The guidance that the military can offer you, as a dependent seeking advice on divorce, is more largely based on the logistics of divorce than on the mental and emotional toll it takes on the involved parties. A seismic life schism cannot be succinctly pared down to a few Powerpoint slides, after all, so one certainly couldn’t fault ‘em for not doing so.
But that’s divorce for you. You don’t get to merely take a pamphlet and a multiple-choice exit survey and be on your merry way. The truth of the matter is, this process is going to require more than just a rollercoaster of feelings from you. News flash: it’s going to become a whole damn theme park.
No-one can sit down and prepare you for all the myriad highs and lows (and, trust me, there will be some very low lows) that you’ll encounter along the ride. Sure, friends/therapists/lawyers alike can give you warning signs at the outset, but heartbreak doesn’t map itself out for anyone. If I could go back and tell myself one valuable thing from the beginning, though, it would have been to feel things, but also to check in with myself.
So – check in with yourself. You can’t leave the park ten minutes after walking through the gates, but you need to take breaks to steady yourself between rides. Take deep breaths. Drink some water. Cool off. No-one is expecting you to go at 100mph all the time. Let yourself feel everything you need to, and just know that as daunting as it may seem at first, you’ll learn to stomach the lurching around and you’ll get to walk out in due course.
2: There are very few support networks.
I would never dare to suggest that being part of a military family – as a partner, spouse, or child – is not, or does not have the potential to be, an isolating experience. With that said, however, I think it’s safe to say that the communities that arise in and around a military lifestyle – be they around bases, military-affiliated associations, or online – are enormously helpful infrastructures for the plus-ones (and so on) of servicemembers. So when the thread connecting you to this vast network of People Who (Kind Of, At Least) Get It is severed, I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t feel lonesome.
All of a sudden, your social media is awash with people whose lives you relate to, but you’re constantly reminded that you’re no longer partaking in a shared experience. You used to be a part of the club, and now you’re on the peripheries of it. You’ve been ousted from the treehouse, but you’ve still got to figure out how to climb out of the tree.
I won’t lie – there aren’t a whole lot of forums and platforms out there for those who are working through a military divorce. My only real, tangible advice would only be to keep your civilian and your military-affiliated friends/family abreast of the situation, attempt not to polarize your mutual friends, and – should you ever feel like slandering your soon-to-be ex-partner – keep those mitts away from the keyboard. Divorce is not a time to be making any more enemies than you need to, and especially not when you have precious few opportunities to find virtual collectives of people who’ve weathered the same storm.
Tempting as it is, don’t jump out of the tree. You’ll need the treehouse to throw you a rope if you need one.
3: Being single again is really, really weird.
Whether you were married for two years or twenty years, I think it’s safe to say that marriage changes your perception of relationships. As a husband/wife/partner, you become legally and emotionally interwoven with another human being, at least to some extent, more than you may have experienced in prior relationships. This is especially true in the military context. And, I’m going to be honest: living a life in which you picked up once/twice/several times and moved around the country (or the world) because your significant other had a less-than-insignificant job requires a level of human intimacy that doesn’t necessarily translate well into the real-world dating pool.
So, here you are again: single and…oh, gosh, are you ready to mingle? You might be. You might not be. You might think you are, but then you might dip your toe in the water and run away from it, screaming. You might not think you are, and then you might actually really enjoy it. There are no right answers. But one thing’s for sure: it’s going to take a bit of getting used to.
Just know that whether you jump into the pool or circle around it for as long as you need to, you always have the option to elect in or out. And remember that, while it may take time for you to beckon the courage to make the dive – you must not let anyone shame you for it, nor let yourself engage in any emotional self-flagellation for doing so. It’s part of the process of moving on.
4: Making friends is a lot harder than you think.
One of the ways that the military really does pull through for spouses and families is – as has been tradition for decades – in the staggering variety of ways to connect dependents through social clubs, networking events, and on-base facilities. And, I won’t lie – it’s very, very easy to take those things for granted.
When you’re on your own again in the “real world,” finding new circles of friends – is more than just a tad trickier. I have several divorced friends who all said the same thing: how, just how, does one make friends in a new place?
Jobs provide one such opportunity, but depending on your line of work (if you work), the “friendship” element may run dry, or prove virtually non-existent – especially as society forays progressively further into the realm of work-from-home careers. So what else does a gal do?
Friendship apps are a relatively new way to meet other, like-minded individuals. Personally, though, I’d advocate for finding people through mutual hobbies and interests – for example, spending a little extra on a membership to a group fitness facility (as opposed to a box gym) is a great way to connect with other people. Digging up info on local clubs for a particular interest – knitting, reading, whatever your “thing” may be – is a wonderful way to invest some time in your happy place and find others who seek joy in similar activities. The same can be said for Facebook groups and forums for virtual versions of these, too.
Just remember to stay open-minded to new friendships. Wherever you go in the world, you will need a support system, and the company of good friends is the very best way to bring joy into your life.
5: Growing pains are part of the process.
Let me repeat that: Growing pains are part of the process. And again, for anyone in the back: Growing pains. Are part. Of the process.
And, furthermore: Let them happen.
There are going to be dark days. There’ll be days where you’ll want ice-cream for breakfast and wine for dinner. There’ll be arguments – big and small – and it is not always going to be pretty. Because, ultimately, when you get divorced from both a person and the culture that surrounded your life for [X] years, you’re going to have to figure out how to live on two feet again. And that’s hard.
But the thing is – and you must remember this – to quote Glennon Doyle, you can do hard things. You were a military spouse! You were fiercely independent through all the absences. You worked much harder than most people do, all in the efforts of making your relationship work. You became accustomed to change at the drop of a hat.
You are the best prepared person to handle the task ahead of you.
So take it in stride – one step, one baby step, at a time. Don’t admonish yourself for not getting it right every single time.
There’s light at the end of the tunnel, and as long as you can believe that – you’ve got this. Now get up off the step, trust that your legs won’t collapse underneath you, and take baby step after baby step into the unknown.
